
aassXVll 
Book " Cin 



I 



\J o n ii 



1 L, 'A ■:' s. i r\ 



JACK STERRY, 
THE JESSIE SCOUT. 



AN INCIDENT OF THE SECOND BATTI.E OF MANASSAS, 

ON WHICH TURNED THE COURSE OF THE 

CAMPAIGN AND THE FATE OF THE 

SOUTHERN ARMY. 



FROM THE NOTEBOOK OF A CONFEDERATE SOI<DIER. 



GAZETTE PRINT, 
1906. 






ZjjL . "^ a-?-\J^ \JdJsJ2 <r(\^ 



U'T^HIS WAY, General Hood," said the 
I guide, gracefully saluting and point- 
ing northward as the head of Long- 
street's column swung toward the south. 

The guide, well mounted and wearing the uni- 
form of a Confederate cavalr3niian, sat at the 
forks of the road near the little village of White 
Plains, in Fauquier County, Virginia. 

The road which General Hood was taking- 
leads to Thoroughfare Gap in Bull Run Moun- 
tains, and is the only practicable approach to the 
field of Manassas where Stonewall Jackson was 
then struggling with the army of General Pope. 

Hood halted his column and closely ques- 
tioned the guide, feeling certain that he was in 
error. And yet it would seem that the guide 
must be right. He was intelligent, confident, 
definite, certain of his instructions, and prompt 
and clear in his replies. He was a handsome 
young fellow with bold frank eyes and a pleasant 



voice, and his air of candor and the precision of 
his statements gave weight to his words. 

The situation was critical; no exigency of war 
could be more so. It was not merely the issue 
of a battle, but the fate of a campaign that hung 
in the balance. 

Lee had taken the perilous step of dividing his 
army in the presence of an active adversary. He 
had sent Stonewall Jackson on a detour of some 
sixty miles to strike the rear and destroy the 
supplies of the Federal army at Manassas, and 
to cut its line of communication with Wash- 
ington. 

In an enterprise of this character the first step 
is not difficult. The vital problem is to bring 
the divided forces together again. Lee's army 
must be promptly reunited, or its beleaguered 
wing must perish. 

It was lo o'clock in the forenoon of August 
28, 1862. 

The two wings of the Confederate army, com- 
manded respectively by Jackson and Longstreet, 
were only fifteen miles a])art, but the Bull Run 
Mountain range lay between them, and the Fed- 
erals under Pope were probably close enough to 
seize the passes. 

Jackson's situation seemed desperate. He had 



been marching- or fio-hting da}^ and night ever 
since he left the Rappahannock, and many of his 
troops were dropping in their tracks for want of 
sleep. 

At sunset on the preceding day (that is on 
August 2-;), Pope's army extended from Play- 
market and Gainesville to Bristow Station, but 
Jackson'^ daring exploit at Manassas had drawn 
the bulk Of the Federals toward that point, and 
in their efforts to surround him they were cov- 
ering the mountain passes and thus barring him 
from a junction with Longstreet. 

Tn this dangerous situation Stonewall Jackson 
took a step which seemingly violates every prin- 
ciple of military science. Beset as he was by 
overwhelming numbers he yet ventured to sub- 
divide his little wing of the already divided 
army. 

General A. P. Hill's Division was at Black- 
burn's Ford, on Bull Run, where it had snatched 
a few hours of sorely-needed sleep. At night- 
fall Stonewall Jackson dispatched that division 
on the open road to Centerville, thus seeming to 
threaten Washington. But with the remainder 
of his command he quietly stole off to the broken 
country lying west of Bull Run and north of the 

3 



Warrenton Turnpike, and there he passed the 
night, curtained hy cavalry of Fitzhugh Lee. 

This daring move on Washington produced 
starthng effects, and for some hours the whole 
situation was changed. General Pope believed 
Hill's Division to be the whole of Jackson's com- 
mand, and he therefore rushed everything in 
pursuit. 

His dream of crushing Jackson had departed, 
and for a period there remained to him nothing 
but the hope of saving Washington from cap- 
ture and his own army from annihilation. 

Night came. There was no moon, and a 
slight haze somewhat dimmed the stars. Hill's 
Confederates, in liglit marching order, encoun- 
tered no obstacle ; but the well-equipped troops 
of Pope, with their heavy batteries and endless 
wagon trains, incumbered the narrow roads, and 
the troops — their eyes dazed by their camp- 
fires — groped in the darkened w^oods and floun- 
dered in the ditches and blocked each other's 
way. It was a nightmare — frantic in efl:"ort, yet 
unavailing in results. 

But with the coming of daylight order began 
to emerge, and tlie Federal commander was 
again in the saddle — alert, hopeful, and prodigal 
in the issuance of conflicting commands. 



Jackson's ruse for the moment had saved him. 
It had given two- thirds of his army nearly five 
hours' sleep, and by drawing Pope from the 
mountain passes had opened the way for Long- 
street's approach. General Hill, having reached 
Centerville, suddenly doubled, and with swift 
secrecy by a forced night march swung back 
southward and reunited with Jackson near Sud- 
ley Ford. 

Jackson then took up a strong position, with 
his right near Groveton, on the Warrenton 
Turnpike, and thence gazed longingly toward 
Thoroughfare Gap, expecting Longstreet to ap- 
pear. 



Such was the situation when the guide's or- 
ders—back yonder at White Plains— would not 
only have taken Longstreet's corps away from 
the battlefield, but would have opened to the 
Federal army a clear course to Richmond. 

The time was lo a. m., August 28, 1862. 

"Did General Jackson himself give you these 
instructions?" asked General Hood. 

■'Yes, General." 

"When?" 

5 



"About four hours asTO. I left soon after sun- 
rise." 

"What route did you come?" 

"I came north of the mountain, General, by 
way of Gum Springs; there is no other road." 

"Do you know where Stuart is?" 

"I saw most of his command this morning. 
He is pushing with his main body for Sudley, to 
cover Jackson's rear. One brigade has gone 
north to guard tlie trains on the Aldie road." 

"Trains on the Aldie road!" exclaimed Hood; 
"what trains are you talking about?" 

"Stonewall Jackson's trains, General. He is 
pushing them toward Aldie, where I supposed 
you would join him." 

"I have heard nothing of all this!" said the 
general. 

"Then ril tell you what it is. General Hood; 
those devilish Jessie Scouts are at it again! — ■ 
cutting off Stuart's couriers! Jackson has 
heard nothing from Longstreet since yesterday 
morning, and he's afraid 3'ou'll follow the old 
order and try to join him by Thoroughfare 
Gap." 

"Where is Jackson?" asked General Hood. 

"I left him a little south of Sudley Springs, on 
the high ground commanding the turnpike." 

6 



"What is he doin^?" 

"Shortening his Hnes, General. You see 
Porter turned our right at Groveton last night, 
and McDowell took Thoroughfare Gap ; and 
Ricketts was sent with four brigades to support 
Buford's cavalry, who had seized the pass at 
Hopewell. At least that's what Stuart's scouts 
told me." 

"You say Jackson's left is at Sudley Springs?" 

"No, General Hood. I intended to say that 
his left was near Sudley Springs — about half a 
mile south. Kearney and Hooker attacked there 
in column last night, doubling us up, and the 
enemy now holds both the road and the fords." 

"But that would make Jackson's position un- 
tenable." 

"Yes, general; that's the reason he's falling 
back. They say McClellan has abandoned the 
James and now covers Washington, and that 
Burnside has arrived from the coast. Within 
twenty-four hours — the way they figure it — • 
Pope will have over a hundred thousand men. 
When I left there, at sunrise, Jed Hotchkiss had 
all the pioneers out. He was cutting roads and 
clearing fords and bridging Catharpin Run, for 
that's the only way out now." 

"Plow did you learn all these things?" asked 

7 



General Hood ; and there was a note of severity 
in his voice. 

"Absorbed them from the atmosphere, I sup- 
pose," answered the guide, rather languidly. 
Then, correcting himself wnth swift utterance, 
he continued : "I beg pardon, Cxeneral Hood ; no 
oifense. I meant to say that a courier absorbs 
details of this sort from the atmosphere of head- 
quarters — the atmosphere of conjecture anrl ap- 
prehension — the atmospiiere so rife with the 
counsel of chaplains and the strategy of medical 
men, and the theories of quartermaster's clerks. 
Why, General, the very air is vocal with the 
enemy's doings. What with captured dis- 
patches and intercepted l)attle orders, and tlie 
reports of scouts and s]:)ies, we have literally no 
rest day or night. Then there are the revela- 
tions of ])risoners, and the stories of deserters, 
and the never-ending chatter of junior staff of- 
ficers. I tell you, Tieneral Hood, we couriers 
hear enough in a day to fdl a l)ook. And on for- 
bidden subjects, you know, according" to the 
proverb, 'Jack knows more than his master!' " 

"Who and what are you?" demanded (^icneral 
Hood, who was i^erjdexed and anxious, vet 
scarcely suspicious of treacher\- — tlie guide was 
so bland and free and unconstrained. 



"I am Frank Lamar, of Atliens, Ga., enrolled 
with the cavalry of Hampton's Legion, but now 
detailed on courier service at the headquarters 
of vStonewall Jackson." 

"Where's your saber?" 

"I captured a handsome ])istol from a Yankee 
officer at Port Republic, and have discarded my 
saber." 

"Let me see your pistol." 

It was a very fine silver-mounted Colt's re- 
volver; one chamber was empty. 

"When did you fire that shot?" 
"Yesterday morning-, General Hood, I shot a 
turkey buzzard sitting on the fence." 

General Hood had handed the pistol to Cap- 
tain Cussons, commander of scouts. Cussons 
scrutinized the pistol, and the guide scrutinized 
Captain Cussons. As the captain drew General 
Hood's attention to the fact that the powder was 
still moist, showing that the pistol had been re- 
cently fired, the guide interposed, saying that 
he had reloaded after yesterday's practice, and 
had fired the shot in question at another buzzard 
just before the column came in sight, but that 
he didn't suppose General Hood would be inter- 
ested in such a matter. 

9 



The guide was mistaken. General Hood was 
decidedly interested in the matter. 

It so happened that the Hampton Legion had 
been recently assigned to Hood, and was then 
marching with his division. A message was 
sent down the line requesting Colonel Gary, who 
was then commanding the legion, to report at 
the head of the column. 

And then the guide suddenly remembered that 
he had never really belonged to Hampton's Le- 
gion; that the story was a little romance of his, 
and had grown out of a love affair. In the 
Shenandoah Valley, he explained, there was a 
beautiful maiden who had caught his fancy, but 
the girl was romantic and did not care for plod- 
ding foot-soldiers. All her dreams were of 
knights and heroes and cavaliers on prancing 
steeds, so he had deserted from the infantry and 
captured a horse, and his real name was Harry 
Brooks, and he believed that in the stress of bat- 
tle or campaign he could throw himself in the 
way of some enterprising commander and ren- 
der such gallant service as would win approval; 
and when by daring deeds he had distinguished 
himself, as only a trooper can, he would confess 
his fault and leave the rest to fortune. 

"Search that man!" exclaimed General Hood, 



impatiently; for the General was baffled and still 
uncertain. All his life had been passed in active 
service, yet this was a new experience to him. 

The search revealed strange tilings. In the 
guide's haversack were little packages of pre- 
pared coffee and blocks of condensed soup and 
good store of hardtack, which facts the guide 
pleasantly dismissed with the remark that "It's 
a poor sort of Reb that can't forage on the 
enemy." 

The next discovery had a deeper meaning. In 
the lining of his vest were found the insignia of 
a Confederate captain — the three gold bars be- 
ing secured to a base which had a thin strip of 
flexible steel nmning lengthwise through it and 
slightly projecting at the ends. Further search 
revealed minute openings in the collar of his 
jacket, and into those openings the device was 
readily slipped and firmly held. 

"What is the meaning of that?" asked General 
Hood, sternly. 

There was an air of boyish diffidence and a 
touch of reproach in the young" man's reply. Its 
demure humor was half playful, 3'et modest and 
natural, and its effect on tlie spectators was 
mainly ingratiating. 

"Reallv, General Hood," he said, "vou ask me 



such embarrassing questions. But I will tell you. 
It was just this wa3^ Our girls, God bless them, 
are as devoted and patriotic as can be, but you 
couldn't imagine the difference they make be- 
tween a commissioned officer and a private sol- 
dier. In short, I soon saw it was all up v/ith 
Harry unless he could get promotion. Well, 
what was I to do? The War Department 
seemed blind, stone blind, to ni}^ merits, and as 
for my family influence it was altogether un- 
availing. So there I was, abandoned — heart- 
lessly abandoned — and all for want of a little 
gold lace! Well, as my country would not pro- 
mote me, I determined to promote myself. And 
I tell you, the thought was an inspiration! Yes, 
indeed; those little golden bars had magic in 
them. In a word, or rather in three words. 'I 
came, saw, and overcame,' and the marriage 
takes plnce the moment 'this cruel war is over.' 
I'm sorry you're not attending to me. General, 
for I'm sure that if you would but deign to grace 
that occasion with your distinguished presence 
our cup of happiness would, indeed, be full." 

General Hood missed all this. He was stand- 
ing apart, talking earnestly with two of his com- 
manders. Colonel Wofford and General J. B. 
Robertson. 



12 



General Hood felt the responsibilit}- of his po- 
sition — felt it keenl};-, painfully. 

Communicative as the guide was, the General 
could not read him. He might be an honest 
youth whose callow loquacity sprung- from no 
worse a source than that of inexperience and un- 
disciplined zeal, or he might be one of the most 
daring- and dangerous spies that ever hid su- 
pernal subtilty beneath the mask of guileless- 
ness. 

True or false, his message bore on momentous 
issues, and it is not too much to say that an 
epoch in our history might turn on his lightest 
word — on the misinterpretation of a glance from 
his beaming black eyes — on the mere compres- 
sion for a moment of his smiling boyish lips. 

It was observed that he had related nothing 
but what might naturally have occurred under 
the ordinary chances of battle; nothing indeed 
but what we had seriously apprehended; and 
above all, his statements were of a character 
which could not have been pre-arranged, for they 
were direct replies to our own specific questions. 

Meantime the precious moments were slipping 
by! — fateful moments! — moments on which 
hung the tide of war; the fate of a great cam- 
paign; the doom perhaps of a new-born nation. 



And there at the parting of the ways sat our 
boyish guide — frank, communicative, well- 
informed — leaning on the pommel of his saddle, 
with the negligent grace of youth and replying 
with perfect good humor to all our questioning. 

We had every reason to believe that Stonewall 
Jackson at that moment was beset by over- 
whelming numbers, and nothing seemed to us 
more likely than that the enemy would attempt 
to cut us ofif by the seizure of Thoroughfare Gap. 

If Jackson's left flank was really at Sudley 
Springs, and his right at Groveton, his right 
would be "in the air," and a movement to turn 
it would virtually support an occupancy of the 
mountain passes. This would naturally drive 
Jackson northward, toward Aldie, as our guide 
had stated. 

The whole situation was perilous in the ex- 
treme, and our doubts were agonizing. 

If the Federals really occupied the passes of 
Hopewell and Thoroughfare they could easily 
hold them against our assault, and if Jackson 
should attempt to join us there, they could de- 
stroy him. 

On the other hand, if Jackson had really re- 
treated toward Aldie we must at once join him 
by a forced march northward, and to do that 

14 



would be not merely to abandon the campaign 
as planned, but also to relinquish to the enemy 
the short line and the open way to Richmond. 

From his first moment of misgiving General 
Hood has taken measures to verify or discredit 
the guide's story. Swift reconnaissance was 
made in each direction, but the roads were am- 
bushed by Jessie Scouts and infested with de- 
tachments of Buford's cavalry. Priceless mo- 
ments were thus lost, and altho' we felt that 
Stonewall must be sore beset, yet we could not 
guess which road would take us to his battle or 
lead lis away from it. 

Meantime diligent questioning went on by 
staff officers and couriers, the benefit of every 
doubt being freely accorded, for many of us be- 
lieved, almost to the last, that the guide was a 
true man. 

But soon we were confronted by another reve- 
lation. Our guide's linen bore, in blue marking 
ink, the oval stamp of the Federal supply de- 
partment. 

"Suppose you tell us about this?" suggested 
Leigh Terrell, of General Law's staff. 

"Well," replied the guide, "that takes me back 

to the affair at Cedar Mountain. The Yankees 

shot my horse and captured me. Intending to 

15 



escape, T shammed sick, and they sent me to the 
hospital at Alexandria. Of course, the first 
thing" was a warm bath and the next was these 
clothes, both of which were a comfort to me." 

"I see;" said Major Terrell, "but how did you 
escape?" 

"Well," replied the o-^ide, "there wasn't much 
discipline about the hospital nor in the town, but 
the camp was awfully strict. T hobbled around 
a ,^ood deal, leaning- on a stick and taking- a look 
at things. The nigh.t relief, T found, sent in the 
remoter outposts with orders to report at even- 
ing roll call. This gave them the liberty of the 
town for an hour or two, and some of them gen- 
erally took a turn at the saloons before g"oing- to 
camp. 

"I had swapped a hospital blanket for a blue 
overcoat, and T pottered around with the boys 
and joined in their choruses and things. T was 
supposed to be a convalescent. Their muskets 
and belts would be carelessly stowed in the cor- 
ners of the barroom, and as a fresh delegation 
came in — hot and thirsty, all calling for drinks 
at once — T hadn't the least difficulty in picking 
up a musket and sauntering ofif with it. Of 
course I waited a moment outside, and listened, 

so that I could make a joke of the matter if any- 

i6 



one had happened to notice me. But it was all 
rig-ht. 

"Well, I lay low until 'tattoo,' and then went 
in the direction of the guardhouse. You see 
there wasn't the ghost of a chance for escape 
unless I could get the countersign, so I con- 
cluded to play sentinel and get it that way — open 
and aboveboard, you know. Presently I slipped 
into a dark alley and adjusted my accouterments, 
and then stalked forth, fully armed, and took 
my post." 

"Pretty cool, eh?" commented Captain Chris- 
tian. 

"Yes, rather so," said the guide; "but you see 
I had my Yankee overcoat on. 

"After a while there was the measured tread 
of troops, marching as if on duty. 

"'Halt! Who comes there?' I yelled, bracing 
myself and bringing my musket to 'the ready.' 

" 'Grand rounds,' was the impressive reply. 

" 'Advance, grand rounds, and give the coun- 
tersign!' says I. 

"It was drizzling at the time, and a portly offi- 
cer in gum boots and a mackintosh, reached for- 
ward until his chin almost touched my bayonet, 
and said, in a stage whisper, 'Lex-ing-ton.' 

17 



" 'The countersign is correct !' " said I ; and 
the procession moved on. 

"When they were out of sight I moved, too — 
but in the other direction, holding my course for 
King street, and intending to take the main 
southern road. 

"What did you do with your musket?" asked 
Leigh TerrelL 

"O, I just jammed it under a culvert, and pur- 
sued my peaceful way. W^ell, it looked like 
everything challenged me. I was halted by 
camp guards, by street patrols, by pickets, by 
scouting parties, but, I tell you, that magic word 
Xex-ing-ton' carried me through like a charm. 

"Finally, on passing the last vidette, I was 
lucky enough to pick up a horse, and by dawn I 
was back with our own folks again. But, I tell 
you, I had a lot more trouble slipping back into 
our lines than I had in getting out of theirs." 



When General Hood first halted his column a 
number of troops had strayed into the fields and 
woods to pick berries, and it was afterwards re- 
membered that the guide's attention seemed to 
follow those soldiers, especially such of them as 



wandered toward a certain thicket near the edge 
of the forest. 

We were soon to learn the meaning of this. 

For in that thicket a frightful secret was hid- 
den — a secret which, if discovered, would doom 
that guide to a shameful death — a death of in- 
fam3^ of nameless horror — his sepulchre the gib- 
bet — his unburied flesh a loathsome meal for 
those evil birds whicli banquet on the dead. 

Was there some pre-vision of this in- that swift 
glance which he cast toward the open country 
as he half turned in his saddle and took a firmer 
grasp on the reins? 

There were those among us who thought so, 
afterwards. Yet he must have known that es- 
cape by flight was impossible. 

In a moment, however, the startled gesture 
was gone, and there was again about him that 
same air of negligent repose, that same tranquil- 
ity of spirit which was enhanced rather than 
broken by the amused and half scornful smile 
with which he regarded the scrutiny of those 
around him. 

While we thus observed him there was sudden 

commotion among the troops. Soldiers with 

grave faces, and some with flashing eyes, were 

hurrying from the southward road. They had 

19 



found a dying man — a Confederate dispatch- 
bearer, who had been dragged into the bushes 
and evidently left for dead. He had gasped out 
a few broken words — -his dispatches had been 
taken; torn from his breast pocket; he had been 
"shot by one of our own men !" 

General Hood drew his 1)rigadiers aside. The 
guide, or rather spy. glanced toward them, but 
remained unshaken. There was a certain placid 
fortitude in his manner wliich seemed incom- 
patible with ruthless deeds. There was some- 
thing of devotion in it, and self-sacrifice, re- 
lieved, indeed, by just a touch of bravado, but 
without a trace of fear. 

None knew better th.an he that that group of 
stern-faced men was a drum-head court, and 
none better knew what the award of that court 
would be. He liad played boldly for a mighty 
stake. He had lost, and was ready with the 
penalty. 

There was a strip of forest where the roads 
forked, and among the trees was a large post oak 
with spreading branches. 

(jcneral Hood pointed to the tree, saying that 
any of its lim1)s would do. 

A Texas soldier remarked that there was no 

better scaffold than the back of a horse, and the 

20 



spy, approving- the suggestion, sprang lightly 
lip and stood on the saddle. Half a dozen men 
were soon biis}' in the tree, fastening- a bridle 
rein at one end and adjusting- a loop at the other. 
As they slipped the noose over his head the spy 
raised his hand impressively: 

"Stop!" he exclaimed, "I have three words 
more for you. T am neither Frank Lamar, of 
Georgia, nor Harry Brooks, of Virginia. I am 
Jack Sterry, of the Jessie Scouts. I did not kill 
that rebel, but T was with those who did. His 
dispatches by this time are safe enough! I 
should like my friends to know that I palavered 
with your army for a good half hour while Gen- 
eral Pope was battering down your precious old 
Stonewall. Now men, I am ready! — and in 
parting, T will simply ask you to say, if you 
should ever speak of this, that Jack Sterry, when 
the rebels got him, died as a Jessie Scout 
should!" 

He folded his arms, and his horse was led from 
beneath his feet. General Hood turned aside, 
and, in subdued voice, gave the order of march, 
and the column moved on. 

The writhing figure swung for a little while in 
the soft morning air, and was still, and there had 



gone forth to the God who gave it as dauntless 
a spirit as ever throbbed in mortal clay. 

Within two hundred paces lay the yet warm 
body of tlie Confederate dispatch-bearer. "Aye," 
you may say, "but that is a different matter; he 
was a rebel." 

I will not answer that. 

The boy lay there, stretched on his native soil; 
his breast clotted with gore and his big blue eyes 
staring vacantly into tlie sky. He had been piti- 
lessly slain — slain without warning, slain by a 
pretended friend, slain while doing his part in 
defense of a cause which, whether good or evil, 
had at least for him the sanction of a father's 
blessing and the consecration of a mother's 
prayers. 



Lieutenant General William Tecumseh Sher- 
man has done much and written much. Many 
of his deeds and words will be remembered when 
The Commentaries shall have been forgotten. 
And yet the better half, the deeper lesson, of his 
voluminous memoirs may be epitomized in his 
own three burning, and let us hope remorseful 
words, "War is Hell!" 



The troops — well rested now — struck up a 

22 



swinging stride along the road from which the 
spy had vainly striven to divert them. Thor- 
oughfare Gap was barely seven miles distant, 
and with that gateway in our hands the divided 
wings of Lee's army would soon be reunited, and 
the grand strategy of the campaign would have 
been achieved. 

But Thoroughfare was not to be had without 
a struggle. 

Robert E. Lee had supposed himself to be 
measuring swords with John Pope, and he had 
therefore taken risks which he never would have 
dreamed of in battling with an ordinary ad- 
versary. 

But General Pope had under him a wayward 
soldier— Irwin McDowell by name— and when 
Pope ordered McDowell to rush his troops to 
Centreville, and get between ''the rebels" and 
Washington, McDowell distinctly disobeyed. 

The trouble with McDowell was that he had 
discerned the real nature of the situation. 

He had commanded on that same field the 
year before, and he knew every stream and ford 
and road and mountain pass in all that region. 

He felt that General Pope had been beguiled 
by Stonewall Jackson's daring feint on the 
Capital, and he believed that Lee's main army 

23 



was approaching by way of Thoroughfare. And 
so instead of rushing everything northward to 
save Washington he rushed six brigades with 
heavy artillery southward to block Longstreet. 
And the consequence was a race for the moun- 
tain passes and a struggle for their possession! 

The rest is history. 

Before the Federals could make good their 
clutch on Thoroughfare the Confederates as- 
sailed the pass and won it. 

Thus Jackson was rescued, Tee's army was 
reunited, the North and the South in all their 
plentitude of strength were confronting each 
other and the result was Second Manassas — that 
most dramatic conflict of the age — boldest in 
strategy, richest in episode, most varied in its 
changing fortunes, and altogether the best- 
balanced and most picturesque battle ever lost 
and won on American soil. 



24 



